


The strength of a woman

by Crazy_little_witch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Brotherly Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Post TLD, Probably ooc, non-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 19:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11088570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_little_witch/pseuds/Crazy_little_witch
Summary: Molly and John have a talk and she sets him right on a view things. Because for her, Sherlock doesn't need to be Mr. Nice and Perfect to forgive him.They might have an audience.





	The strength of a woman

**Author's Note:**

> This story began as the vaguest of ideas... and I'm not happy with it. But, as it's finished now, I wanted to post it anyway and hopefully get to the Story I actually want to write. 
> 
> Let me know, what you think of it :-) Any comments, kudos and bookmarks are welcome :-)
> 
> The characters belong to ACD, Moftiss and the BBC. The idea came from a snippet of a song written for the German Musical „Rebecca“ by Levay/Kunze and the original story written by Daphne du Maurier.

„Why do you still allow him to hurt you, Molly?“ John handed her a cup of tea, before he sat down with his own cup, facing her. Molly thought afterwards, that her amused chuckle might have shocked him a bit. „Pot, kettle, John?“ She sipped at her tea. She had to carefully consider what she wanted to tell him.

“You know, John…” she put her tea down on the table in front of her. “I’ve known Sherlock for many years now and we’ve been friends for just as long. He probably told you, how we met, didn’t he?” John nodded. “He told you some story about a case and meeting me at my very first day at Bart’s, I take it?” John nodded once more. “Thought so,” she said smugly. “And we did meet that day, but contrary to Sherlock’s memories, that wasn’t the first time.“ Molly saw John’s surprise and continued. „It was at the A&E several months earlier and, GOD, he’s been high as a kite that night.“

Molly told him the whole story, from meeting a much younger Sherlock as a medical student to becoming a close friend and confidante of the only Consulting Detective in the world. She was glad to finally be able to talk about it, and what was even more important, John listened. He really listened. Molly saw the sorrow on his face and the unshed tears, when she told him about Sherlock's time away. Stupid, stubborn men probably never talked about it, she wondered. When she came to an end, what felt like hours later, his face was ashen and Molly felt sorry for him. 

“John? John, you’re ok?” He startled, as though he just woke up from a bad dream. „Hmmm?“ Molly saw the puzzled look on his face, until he Er schreckte hoch, als wäre er aus einem Traum erwacht. „Hmmm?“ He obviously had difficulties to get a grip on himself. Molly was concerned. Before she could do or say something, John spoke once more. „Yeah,... ahm... yes, I think I am... ok... possibly...“ In a heartbeat she sat beside him and draw him in her arms.

„I know, he will never love me,... Well he does, but not in THAT way...“ she smiled sadly. „... I know, he never will. I'm more a... little sister for him. But that's fine, John. It's enough to have him in my life, in any way he wants and needs me. I am important to him. He'd do anything to protect me. He'd literally die fot those he loves. He already did.“ John nodded, even paler now than before.  
Molly understood that it was still hard for John to think about this time. „I know. Hell I know, he would give his life for us.“ The old anger simmered through his words. 

„And thus risking our love and trust in him with his actions. He'd do it anyway, even if it means to be alone in the end.“ Molly stood to put their cups away. Toby, her cat which appeared some time ago, sat on the kitchen workshop and looked hopefully at her. „It's not dinner time yet, sweety.“ She stroke through his soft fur and enjoyed his purring for a second. 

„That's why, I'll always forgive him, John. Because, behind this cold mask he shows the world, there's a damn good man. Because he fights and protects, without wanting a thank you in return. Because it's not about his own interests. Because he doesn't believe in our forgiveness.“ Molly knew she had said to much, when John looked up abruptly.

„What do you mean?“ He stood and came into the kitchen. „Molly?“ He stood right in front of her, his head tilted to one side, his gaze assessing. „Tell me, Molly. Now!“ She sighed. Sherlock would probably berate her for it, but he could have told John himself, after all.

„He didn't believe Mary's plan would work, ok? But he was willing to try, to risk it. For you...“ She couldn't look at the doctor. „Meaning?“ She closed her eyes at his grave voice. She'd hoped she wouldn't have to be more frank, but although she saw, that John already suspected what her answer would be, he apparently needed to her it. „He expected to die, John.“ There was no possibility to lessen the impact their words had on him. „He was ready to die for real this time. Just for you.“ He stumbled. 

„Is it really surprising? You're his best friend. His only friend, since the day you two met. You've killed for him the very first day. Within a year you'd have died with him at this pool, just to stop Moriarty. He sprang from this damn roof. And as soon as Mary's life was threatened, he killed Magnussen. Did he hesitate, John? Before he shot him? Did he waver, knowing for sure that would mean his own death sentence?“ Now that she'd begun, she was determined not to go easy on him

„He has one weakness. His heart. And it only beats for the Watsons! He went to his personal hell, to save you. How did you thank him for that?“ John's tears matched her own. „How could you NOT forgive him?“ When she reached for the tissues, Toby sprang from the workshop and ran back to the back of her flat. She smiled, before turning back to a distressed doctor.

„John, I'm sorry.“ She hugged him once more. Maybe she had been a bit too harsh. „No, it's fine, Molly. I had to hear it. And you're right. I've been a complete ass.“ He couldn't stop the small cry that unwinded from his throat. „Telling me so, was Mary's job...“ „Any time.“ she grinned, while in tears. „Thank you,“ he wiped the tears from his face. „Seriously! Thank you, Molly, for being such a good friend to the both of us. I'm feeling better, knowing you're by his side.“ Molly nodded. She understood what he tried to say. 

Shortly afterwards John he excused himself and left to pickup little Rosie and bring her home. Molly looked out of the window and watched John hailing a cab. „How much did you hear?“ She didn't need to turn to know Sherlock stood in the door to her bedroom. „Enough.“ Molly noticed Sherlock looked uncomfortable. She stepped away from the window and walked to the kitchen. „Coffee or tea?“ 

It's been her turn to look after him, when he admitted to no longer beeing comfortable at Baker Street. With a small voice, she long ago hopped to never hear again, he told her, that everything in his flat reminded him of Mary and John. And although he didn't crave for drugs, they both knew it was just a matter of time before he would relapse. While Sherlock packed some clothes, Molly informed Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft, that Sherlock would stay with her for an indefinite period of time.

„Tea, please.“ With a calmness, she didn't really feel, she prepared two cups of strong tea. „Sherlock...“ she turned around. He sat at her table and watched her. „I know, you're feeling giulty,“ she hesitated. „... you're not responsible for Mary's death. Neither are you responsible for my feelings towards you!“ He didn't look convinced. Quite the opposite, in fact. What else could she say? She watched Sherlock wrapping both arm around himself and tilting slowly back and forth. To see the detective stripped from his confidence and left lost and unsure broke her heart all over again.

„Oh Sherlock...“ A tight embrace. „Shhh, sweetheart.“ With one hand in his hair, the young woman pressed his head to her chest, so he could listen to her heart. Molly's other hand came up and stroke through his soft curls. „Oh honey, I love you. I'll always do. Sherlock, no matter what you do or say, no matter how much I want to kick your ass sometimes - you can always reach out to me. I'll be there!“ Sherlock raised his head, his disbelief clear. 

„And I thought nothing gets through to you. Sherlock, how long do we know each other?“ He opened his mouth to answer, but she stopped him. „No, this was a rhetoric question. And unlike you, I know the right answer.“ She chuckled quietly, it was an old joke between them. „What I mean, I know you, Sherlock. I KNOW you! And I know, that you love me. Just not... the way I love you.“ Molly felt the single tear, that ran down her cheek. Determined she wiped it away. She could cry later. For now, she had to be the strong one. For him. Because that's, what she's always been good at.

„Listen to me.“ She tugged at his hair, until he finally looked back up to her. „Sherlock William Scott Holmes, you are a good man. You fight for the people you love. You'd even go so far to sacrify yourself, to prevent them of getting hurt.“ She laid her hand over his heart. Her thumb stroking over the naked skin, where his shirt was unbottoned. „You give so much of yourself and ask for so little. Don't bear the responsibilty for our decisions!“

Molly saw Sherlock's jaw tightening and his lips getting thin. This time he didn't interrupt him. „I miss her, Molly. She wasn't good, for sure, but... she made a better man of me. For her, for... Rosie... I want to be better.... And I... I don't know... how...“

She hauled him back into her arms. Embraced the man, who meant so much to her, once more. She lowered her head until she could feel his hair on her skin. „I know, Sherlock. I miss her too. And we always will. We'll never forget her. Become this man, you want to be, Sherlock.“

They stood there for a long time. The hug never loosening. But at some point Sherlock stood and now it was him who had Molly in his arms. She felt his warmth, his calming heartbeat. „Thank you, Molly.“ His voice deep and solemn. „Thank you, for... being there, I guess. For keeping me right and... believing in me. I'll probably never understand why, but...“

Molly cried. She knew she cried and possibly left makeup on his shirt, but it didn't matter. Not now. Not in this moment. It never did between just the two of them. They had different strategies to go for it, but when one struggled, the other was there. And always would be.

„I love you, little one.“ She didn't know, whether she cried or laughed at that. But she loved him too,... her friend, her brother, the love of her life.


End file.
